


The Untold Truth

by Musical_Theatre_Addiction



Category: Be More Chill
Genre: Angst, Comfort, English, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt, M/M, Michael is low key an asshole in one of the chapters, New Jersey, New York, No like lots of angst, Possibly Triggering Topics, Romance, oof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-19 13:13:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16535240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musical_Theatre_Addiction/pseuds/Musical_Theatre_Addiction
Summary: They haven’t seen each other in five long years, and Jeremy Heere has finally moved back to New Jersey. That’s not all; he’s sharing a house with his best friend, Michael Mell. Michael has always felt for Jeremy on a level far deeper than any friendship, and believes this may just be his chance. But Michael then finds out a certain fact about Jeremy, and comes to a heartbreaking realization.......he’ll never have him.





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi hi. So I wrote the first chapter on Wattpad first yay.
> 
> I finally decided to write this. Please enjoy to all who were waiting

Chapter 1: Michael's POV

"Four suspects have been caught, seen running down Lexington Avenue; they were caught by police on East 34th Street, and have now been taken into custody."

"Out of the fifty-two who were fatally injured after guns were fired by five men, and six women in Times Square, only nineteen have been reported to survive."

"Thirty-three have now been confirmed dead after the massacre that took place in Times Square, right here in New York City, three months ago."

"All over the country, people are now gathering at religious services, holding candles, and singing prayers for the innocent men and women who lost their lives after a gruesome shooting that went down in-"

Mom turned off the television, after she flipped through multiple channels, each only discussed the same topic. She lightly tossed the remote onto the counter, breathing out a glum sigh.

"Terrible, what happened." She said, her face as gloomy as a dark sky on a cold winters evening; a sky so dark with a blizzard so heavy, it blocks out the sun.

"It's been just over three months since the massacre, and it's still all the press can speak of." My other mom, or Mama, as I call her, added on. She bit her lip, and focused her eyes on the counter I was wiping off with a Kleenex. I almost saw the gears, shifting, and turning in her brain, as thoughts of how she could change the topic flew by. She bit her lip, almost hesitant, but lifted her shoulders.

"Well, the most I can say, is....at least it's over. I know it still has a big emotional impact on everyone in the country, but.....er.....we have nice weather?" Mama tried her hardest to change the topic.

"Marcie, if you're not comfortable with speaking about the subject, just speak up. I don't mind. Speaking of what you said, I am quite glad that April has arrived, they really don't lie when they say March comes in like a lion, and out like a lamb. Just a few more months until tourists start coming to Asbury, and take peeks into the one and only, Mell's Arcade!" Mom threw her hands up and shook her fingers, enthusiastically, and luckily, that made Mama giggle.

I smiled at the two, before slipping on the white headphones that sat around my neck back onto my ears, and pulling out my phone, searching for a good song to get me going. I eventually pressed one, and waited for the music to start, before continuing my work.

"Shot through the heart,  
and you're to blame.  
You give love a bad name.  
I play my part, and you play your game.  
You give love a bad name."

Nothing like Bon Jovi to bring back the groove. I nodded my head to the beat, as I always do, as my hand even goes across the counter to the music like a metronome. I let my thoughts circle around my head as the music goes on, drowning out everything else. My eyes, bored of watching my arm swish around the counter, float to the window, finding it far more interesting. 

Just a few more hours. Just three more to go. Three more and I was going to see him again. Gosh, by now, he's probably on a ferry, probably being brought back to New Jersey, as he stares up at the-

"Michael? Michael!" Yelled Mom.

I forced my gaze away from the window, my thoughts retreating to the back of my brain, to be uncovered later. I stared questioningly at her for a few seconds, wondering what it was she wanted, when she motioned her head, and hand to the counter. I looked down and realized I got too deep into my thoughts, and I stopped wiping the counter. 

Sliding my headphones off, I immediately started to scrub, stuttering out a brief apology. I stayed focused on a specific thought, giving quick apologetic glances up at Mom.

She shook her head, and laughed at me. "Michael, you don't need to work that hard, but you keep on staring out the window, like you're waiting for him to just walk in. I know you're both excited and anxious to see Jeremy again after five years...."

And she was indeed correct. It's been five years since I last saw Jeremy. Sixty months. One thousand, eight hundred, twenty-five days. Each day without Jeremy. Each day a new day to be lonely. Each day missing my player two terribly. But I wouldn't be missing him much longer, because in just three more hours-

"Michael!" Mama yelled. I looked up, and her hands were on her hips, her eyes were wide. Mama knew how to be strict when it was time to be.

"Sorry.....again." My face was the shade of a tomato in my embarrassment.

"I know you're eager, and nervous, and I completely understand, but we've got work to do." She said strictly, and firmly. I nodded my head.

"Yes ma'am." I even saluted her. She rolled her eyes, and shook her head, giggling.

"Help me move this machine to the back, it started glitching out this morning, I'm gonna have to call in a technician." She pointed her thumb behind her to an unplugged arcade machine, a game called Dragon's Lair. 

I put down the Kleenex I was using, and followed her over the machine, helping her bring it to the back.

* * * * * *

I've noticed that three hours go by much slower when you're anxious for something exciting and positive to happen, but when you're nervous of something negative that's going to happen, it feels like an hour flashes by in the blink of an eye. Well, for me, one hour was doubled into what felt like was two. 

After lots of sessions of loosing the real world through the window, and then being scolded, I eventually got home. I used up the last hour I had to freshen up. I cleaned my house up a bit, throwing away any food wrappers that were spewed around the house, and making sure all my clothing got into the hamper from the times I missed my shots when throwing them, and got too lazy to walk over five feet, pick it up, and drop it into its rightful home.

I brushed my hair, washed my face, and polished my glasses, so when I looked up at the mirror my whole head shined in the reflection of the light.

Then I waited. I took a seat by the couch. I didn't know what to do. I looked around and spotted a magazine. I opened it and zoomed through it. But I shut it quickly, and tightly, blushing, when I saw pictures of topless men. Yes, I am very gay, if it went unnoticed. I walked over, and tossed the magazine into the garbage, my face still flushing lightly.

I sat back by the couch, my hands resting on my knees, my fingers tapped them impatiently. I felt my palms start to get sweaty, so I rubbed them against my black pants, until they were red.

I jumped up when I finally heard the doorbell, followed by three knocks. This was it. I sprinted to the door, my feelings in multiple synonyms for excitement. I brought my hand and it landed on the door knob. I breathed in, and turned it. I pulled the door open, and......wow.

There in the doorway stood Jeremy Heere, my best friend, and he's certainly changed since I last saw him. I felt my heart stop in it's chest as I got a view of the Jeremy I had not seen in what felt to be an eternity.

He had grown over time, about a foot, I'd say, but now, I towered over him. The top of his head could fit right under my neck, like a puzzle piece being put together. His hair was in it's same style since high school, and seemed to have gotten only browner, and it shined in the light even more than it used to. His figure definitely changed as well, due to the works of puberty. He was still quite skinny, but not as wimpy looking. He got broader in the shoulders, and his chest stuck out more. He also seemed to have gotten more built, I'm gonna say it was from all the acting lessons he took in college that I knew he did because he texted and called me about his classes while I was in Rutgers. However, the one thing that did stay the same were his eyes. They were still the beautiful ocean of blue that I remember.

Soon my heart finally decided to start beating again. I managed to smile, point at him with both fingers, and say, "Jeremy, my buddy, how's it hanging?"

Jeremy closed his eyes and laughed with his mouth closed. He then replied in his voice, the one thing puberty decided not to touch, "Life is banging." He replied, and he pointed his fingers right back at me. We than both broke out in laughter. Yup, he was still the Jeremy I knew since Kindergarten.

The next thing he did made my heart stop working once again. He wrapped his arms around my neck, and brought himself in, embracing me. For a few seconds, I just stood frozen in time, trying to remember how to hug someone who isn't your parents. But my instincts did the job for me, and I put my arms around him, above his waist, and pulled him in close to me. Jeremy, who was on his tiptoes in order to hug me, rested the side his head on my shoulder, and I felt him grin.

"It feels good to be back," I heard him whisper.

"It feels good to have you back," I replied, also in a whisper, as I held him tighter.

Eventually, he brought his head off my shoulder, unwrapped his arms from my neck, and took a few steps back. He turned, and grabbed the two suitcases he had with him. I beckoned him inside, and he followed me to the stairs. He moved his head about as we walked through the house.

"You've got a nice place." He complemented as we walked through the other room, reaching the stairs.

I felt myself flush. "Thanks." Was all I could mumble. I really just hoped I made it comfortable enough for him and I to live in.

I took one of his bags for him, and we both hauled them up the stairs together. I led him to what I made to be his room. It wasn't much. The most Mr. Heere, my parents, Jeremy, and I could do for designing was a queen sized bed with blue covers, along with a purple rug. The room had blue walls, filled with random video game and musical theatre posters everywhere. We leaned his suitcases against the wall for him to unpack after dinner. Jeremy then went around the room, viewing it all.

A desk also sat at the wall for Jeremy to do any work on, as he had gotten a job as a drama teacher in Howell high school.

"Michael?" I heard Jeremy call.

"Yes?" I asked.

He went over to me, stopped in front of me, and smiled.

"I love it." He said happily. I grinned in return, my lower eyelids lifting a bit.

Suddenly, Jeremy snapped his fingers, with an, "Oh!" He then walked over to one of his suitcases, and took out a game controller. I stared curiously, and then I realized.

"Is that....?" I asked, wanting him to complete the sentence. He nodded, smiling.

"I saved it this whole time. The red gaming controller that I kept when I moved to New York for college." He was clutching it, smiling joyfully. I still stared in surprise. I then walked out of his room. Only twenty seconds, had I walked back in, with a blue gaming controller for an Xbox. We both laughed, and smiled, that we kept our promise to keep the gaming controllers we used for our old video game marathons in order to remember each other.

As we laughed, I felt a feeling I haven't felt since the day Jeremy left.

The feeling of pure happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, ok ok ok ok ok ok ok.
> 
> I know, in my last fan fic I said that Jeremy had bright brown eyes, but after reading other fanfiction and seeing Fanart, I’ve come to a conclusion that Jeremy actually has blue eyes, so I’m changing it.
> 
> I also decided to change Momae in Mama, and Mombee in Mom.
> 
> Good? Ok. Thanks for reading the first chapter, I have more in stock, so stay tuned.


	2. “There must be something there that wasn’t there before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof

Chapter 2: Jeremy's POV

    "Pizza?" Michael looked back up at me for an answer as we walked down the stairs to his basement to just watch a movie, and maybe play a game or two, like when we used to back in high school. We've been so caught up in work, we never had the time to ourselves to just sit down, and turn on a Nintendo, or turn on a horror movie that had every cliche you could name.

    "Pizza." I confirmed. He nodded his head, before turning it away, towards the basement floor. When we reached the bottom, Michael flipped the light switch that was placed on the wall next to the staircase, and light filled the room, which seemed empty without it. I squinted my eyes, slowly opening them more as they adjusted. I then got a good view of the basement.

    Michael did a splendid job decorating it. There were two bean bags that sat in front of a television. Next to the television was a medium sized box of different games for Wii, Xbox, and Nintendo. There were many posters of games posted all over the walls, many I recognized. Michael appeared to be a collector as well, as there were a few shelves filled with nothing but video game figures, manga, anime art paintings from people he commissioned, and gaming instruction manuals. The walls were painted red, and the floor had dark pink carpeting. All together the room was quite imposing.

    "Impressive." I spoke, as Michael led me over to the bean bags. He grinned proudly. 

    "Thank you." He said, pulling out his phone. He typed in a number, and held it up to his ear.

    "Hi, let me get one plain pie, with six garlic knots?" Michael asked. He gave who ever had picked up the phone the address to the house, before thanking him, and hanging up, shoving his phone back into his pocket of his old red hoodie. Same one he wore since high school.

    I took a seat in the blue bean bag, as Michael decided to turn on The Blair Witch Project. Michael had without a doubt changed physically since we last saw each other. He was taller than me now, his growth spurt was so big, that now, I had to stand on my tip-toes just for my chin to reach over his shoulder. His facial features were stretched out just a teensy bit, but his baby face still remained for the most part. His shoulders grew in width, and his figure was still that of a rectangle, just longer, and little wider. But his hair was still a dark brown, so dark it was nearly a black, and hopefully it was still as soft as I remember, from when I briefly ran my hands through it on our very last hug the day I left for New York. His eyes had not changed either. They were still dark brown, like rich, pure, chocolate. A little bitter, but you could always taste the sweetness in it, if you just took the time to.

    Michael took a seat next to me in the red bean bag that was placed next to the blue one I was in as the movie began to play. 

    "The pizza'll Be here in about another hour." Michael informed me, and I nodded in understanding, before turning my head back to the television. The movie continued, and soon enough, the three main characters had gotten lost in the forest while searching for the witch. The meltdowns they kept constantly having seemed almost real, and the acting was very acceptable. I turned my head over to Michael when we were forty-five minutes in, to see how he was doing, as we had been silent the whole time. I saw his chest resting on his knees, which he had scrunched up to his body, trying to curl himself into a ball. His hands held onto his legs, and he stared wide eyed at the television screen.

   Suddenly, there was jump scare, and Michael backed up into his bean bag as he gasped. I stifled back a laugh, but he heard it, and his face flushed in embarrassment.

    "Don't be embarrassed, you're supposed to be scared in a horror movie." I reassured him. His tensed shoulders rested at my words. He turned his head over to me, and I saw a whole new level of trust for me in his eyes. He breathed in.

    "Jeremy.....this will sound weird.....but...." He hesitated a moment. "Can you.....hold my hand? It'sjustthatithelpsmegetlessnervousandthat'sallit'snothingmorethanthat-" 

    "Calm down, Michael, you sound like you're trying to rap. And yes, I will hold your hand, if it makes you feel better." I cut him off. 

    Michael briefly popped his shoulders up and made a cute, flustered face mixed with embarrassment, before holding out his hand. I slowly set my own hand into his. His hand easily surrounded my own, and I felt Michael hold on to me with a tight grip. Michael's hand was warm, and despite the roughness, it was comfortable, and fit perfectly with my own. 

    I tried to bring my attention back to the television that was playing the ongoing movie, but I just couldn't seem to keep focus. Instead my gaze shifted back to Michael, who also couldn't seem to pay attention to the television either, as his eyes were also on me. 

    When our eyes met each other once again, a smile crept onto Michael's face. His dark chocolate brown eyes still held what looked like pools of the good richness, and I could see it through the reflection of the light, which his eyes gleamed off of. His smile was contagious, and I discovered a smile of my own to just come onto my face without permission. Gosh, I really missed him. Michael has been my best friend since Kindergarten, and though moving to New York was my decision, the entire five years I felt like I had left a good chunk of myself behind in New Jersey, and coming back here, I realize that chunk was Michael. I feel like a parent, who missed out on watching their child grow. Though I didn't see Michael as a child. He was a bright, young man. We both were. We had both changed over the years, physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

    But then, when I stare into Michael's eyes I feel that those five years had never happened at all. Michael's eyes were a time machine, and I felt as if I was looking into the eyes of a man whose biggest problems in the world was dealing with the fact that he was yet to "come out of the closet," and that he wasn't the popular kid in school. I felt like we were looking into the eyes of only two guys who were just having another video game marathon, another sleepover, and another day of high school had come and gone.

    But, five years have passed, and time has changed. We were both older, and out of college. He was taller. I was wiser. He was responsible. I was more physically developed. He was more handsome-

    *Ding Dong*

    "That's the pizza." Michael said. He held onto my hand for just two more seconds, squeezing it, before he stood out of his bean bag, his hand slipping out of mine. He walked out of the room, and up the stairs, but I kept my hand in the same place, lost in a fog of blurry thought, and it remained that way even when Michael walked downstairs with a box of pizza.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

    When we stuffed ourselves with pizza, Mountain Dew, devoured the garlic knots, and finished the movie, we went back upstairs. I walked up the next case of stairs, and made my way into my room. I closed the door behind me quietly when I got inside, and walked over to to my suitcase to do my unpacking. 

    After another thirty minutes, I opened a compartment in my second suitcase, and a folded up white piece of paper fluttered out, and onto the floor. I bent down to pick it up, but suddenly froze when I was half way into completing the task. 

    I knew that paper. It was a letter. I knew where it was from, when it was from, who it was from. I was having a mini argument in my head on whether to reopen the memories that were stored inside this certain folded up letter. I eventually made a decision, and picked up the letter. I was hesitant, for just a moment, before I began to unfold it. I took a seat on my bed.

    My hands began to feel like it was being stabbed with pins on the inside, and they trembled as I continued to unfold it. Soon, enough, I was on the last fold. I took a deep breath, and opened the letter, as I had done what seemed like a million times before, that was filled with her handwriting. My heart began to ache, droop, shiver, empty, and just all together fill with dread, as I read the first line:

    "Dear Jeremy, my fiancée."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you.


	3. The memories have returned, and now they’re here to haunt me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. 
> 
> Okay, So, I was listening to an English Vocaloid song called “Copycat” and as I was listening to the lyrics, I couldn’t help but realize that it perfectly fits the plot of Be More Chill.
> 
> Okay that was literally all I had to say, onto the fanfiction.

“Dear Jeremy, my fiancée,” 

I’m sure you’re wondering where I am, if you’ve found this letter. I just want to inform you before I go on, that I have just gone out. I’m meeting up with my mom for lunch, as she wants to see the ring you gave me, and discuss the wedding. She’s an early planner. We both are. We’re gonna talk about what wedding dress I have in mind, what speech I’ll say at our wedding, and what future home I want to live in. I’m so excited to finally get out of our apartment and into a new house, once we’re married. I’ve been everywhere in New York, and I must say, Upstate New York is beautiful, and I just know you’ll love the views there. I just wish you could see what I have in my head now. A ranch home, painted to be as white as the fluffy clouds that we can go outside and watch. We can have picnics on the soft green grass, that runs for acres. When it rains, we can have an outside porch, where we can sit and drink tea, while seated in rocking chairs, viewing what ever weather Mother Nature decides to give us for the day.

That won’t be all that we watch. I envision you and I, Jeremy, seated on those rocking chairs. I see you stare out to the land, with a smile playing at your lips. The way you smile, I can’t help but smile back, as the cool Autumn breeze will flow through our hair. When I look out onto the land, I can see a big oak tree that we planted together, and I can see three children running around it. I can see a young girl, her hair dark brown, her eyes a beautiful light shade of green, like my own, on a swing that is tied to the tree. Pushing her, I see two older boys, one with your light brown hair, with a mix of blue-green eyes that we gave him, and another with my black hair, and dazzling blue eyes like your own. They’re so happy, responsible, and playful.

I can’t wait to make my vision a reality, Jeremy. And I can’t wait to marry you, and that alone will be a dream come true for me. Together, we can make both of our dreams real. I know we can. Because we’ve always been making each other happy. Your smile is enough to start a warm fire in my heart. Nothing, not a thing, can describe the absolute happiness, warmth, and love I feel when you look at me with your eyes, so blue they outshine the ocean itself. If I can wake up to your face every day for the rest of my life, I would think that I’d be in heaven! 

I remember our first date together. We went out for lunch at one of the many diners New Jersey held. It was very awkward, if I can say the least. Our eyes refused to meet each other’s face, as they kept darting around the place. But then, finally, the conversation, which barely was one, found it’s way to play rehearsal, and we connected like a magnet. We were two chatter boxes with no off button. Strange, how play rehearsal can do things like that. To people around us, we must have sounded like two theatre brats talking about over rated musicals, but to me, it was the most intriguing conversation I’ve ever had. You walked me home, and though I never admitted it, I was blushing the whole time as you held my hand the entire way back. From that date and on, what was once just romantic feelings for each other turned into true love, and with each date we went on, my feelings grew stronger for you.

I also remember the first time I kissed you. It was a few months after we started dating, and you decided to take me out a local theatre play that was being played in Red Bank. The play was absolutely terrible, and you and I couldn’t help but snicker at the many flaws it had as it went on. You drove me home, and walked me up my driveway. We said goodbye, but my feet didn’t want to move. They seemed to be glued in place, and yours were too. You took my cold, late Autumn nighttime weather filled hands in your own, and I felt them warm up at the contact, as if you were a fire. I felt a feeling surge through me, an urge, and from beyond what I could control, I began to lean up towards you. When my face was directly in front of yours, I finally pressed my lips into your own. You seemed shocked, but after a few seconds you kissed me back, and I felt the most wonderfully unexplainable feelings in my life. But I know each feeling was not one of tempt to pull away. They were of love. 

It’s hard to believe that we’re here now. The big day just six months away. I’m so excited, and jumpy to get my last name changed from Canigula into Heere. I hope you’re excited for it too! Just remember, that right now, there is nothing I want to do more than to just stand right next to you for the rest of my life, and beyond that. 

I’ll be back home before you know it. And as long as I can confirm it, I’ll always be back home. I’ll always be back home to see you. I’ll see you soon. I love you.

Your future wife, 

Christine.”

I didn’t realize that there were tears racing down my cheeks, until I finished reading. My heart felt like it was being stabbed over and over again as I read the letter, and now it was sore with a pain I know I have felt many times before, and for some reason, I have dared myself to feel it again. I carefully set the letter onto the night stand that was beside my bed, before collapsing into my pillows, crying. I really thought. I really thought it would get better if I could just get away from it all. If I could get out of that apartment, that terrible, cruel, apartment, and just forget that Christine was ever a person, ever a human being who came into my life, with a smile, and attitude that could light up a room, but I was wrong. I was very wrong. The pain is still here, and it feels like it’ll never go away.

I remember when I first read that letter. Instead of tears, a huge smile was spread across my face. I remember watching her walk into our apartment just hours later, and look around for me as I hid. I jumped out of my hiding spot, and tackled her into a hug, pressing a big kiss to the side of her cheek, and thanking her for the sweet note. We shared a real kiss, and my hands went to her long, soft, and black hair. I ran my fingers through it like a brush. No tangles. Just softness. Like a pillow. 

I shut my eyes tight. Tears continued to spill out of my eyes, and the water began to stain the pillow, but I couldn’t stop. My longing to see Christine again, to kiss her again, to hug her, and take in her vanilla coconut scent only intensified when I got back to New Jersey, and the feeling was even worse when I saw Michael. 

The tears had turned from a stream, into a waterfall, and my sounds also helped to describe them, as they turned from helpless sniffs, to painful sobs. Each sob was louder than the last. Each breath I took in was shakier than the last. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe with each breath I took in, like I was choking. I was desperate to get in more air, but it always felt like I was losing air with each sob filled choke.

I took in more loud, and hard gulps of air, trying to suck the waterfall of endless tears back into my eyes. I just wanted the pain in my heart to go away. I wanted all of it to just go away. Go away! Go away! Go away!

I heard knocks on my door. I sat up, and forced the tears off my face, wiping them with my sleeve. I took gentler breaths in, and shook my head, trying to pull myself back together.

“Coming.” I managed to mumble out. My voice was hoarse. It was dead, gone. I felt as if I had just ran a marathon. I stood up, and every part of me wanted to collapse on the floor. I felt like I couldn’t walk, but I forced my self to, forcing my legs forwards despite the invisible weight on them.

I got to the door after stepping through what felt like snow, despite all there being a floor. I reached for the knob, twisted it, and used more power than what it takes to open the door. I looked at who knocked. It was Michael.

He must have heard my sobs, and possible screams. His eyebrows were bent, and there was worry, and concern in his dark brown eyes. He then gave me a reassuring smile.

But this was not just any common smile. This was my smile. It was smiled smile he gave me when he wanted to express his feelings of care, and concern for me. I never saw him use that smile on anyone else. It seemed that he reserved it for me.

And that smile was what made me collapse onto the ground, and allow all my sucked in tears to come bursting right back out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha sorry not sorry


	4. And now, I’m nothing, but rage.

Chapter 4: Michael's POV

    Jeremy is a very strange person, and he's done and said many peculiar things over the twenty years I've known him. But I've never seen him fall to floor and start bawling at the sight of me. But what really panicked me more was the fact that he was having an emotional breakdown right there.

     When Jeremy fell down, anyone staring at a distance would have thought he was holding onto me, and ended up bringing me down with him, but that was not the case. The second after Jeremy dropped to the floor, I immediately crouched down until my face was at his level. His hands were clasped on his face, shielding it, like he was afraid of what my reaction would be if I got a full spectacle the mess he had just become. Tears were now running down his hands, all the way down to his elbows, before dropping onto the floor. His hair had been shoved upwards, and partially draped over a few of his lanky fingers.

    I took one of his hands in mine, squeezing it tightly. I did this multiple times, trying to get him to look me in the eyes, but his hand was emotionless in my own. It seemed it had one mission in the moment, and that was to hide Jeremy's face. I took my hand and brought it to his back, running it up and down, trying my best to make him feel comforted. I was unsuccessful, though. In fact, I think my contact only made the situation worse. He only got louder with each breath that brought a new cry. 

    Sensing that my tactics weren't effective, I decided to get Jeremy off the floor. I wrapped my arm around his back, my other arm went under his legs. I lifted him off of the ground, and carried him over to his bed. He did nothing to stop me, but he continued to bawl. I carefully set him down onto the soft mattress, and took a seat next to him. I didn't know what I could do to calm him down, so I waited. 

     I thought as I waited. What could possibly have happened to make him this upset? I started thinking for answers. Maybe he was homesick? He was probably missing New York. ....No, that can't be it. New Jersey is his first home, he loves it here. That can be marked off the list. Did I do something to him? No....or at least I don't think I have yet. 

    I glanced back over to Jeremy, trying to read him. His sobs were beginning to die down, his knees were scrunched up to his face, which he decided to hide it in. His elbows sat on the top of his knees, and his hands dangled in the air. His brown hair had gone everywhere, and was probably tangled a bit. He brought his face out of his knees, giving in large sniffs. His eyes still refused to meet my own, and I saw that his face was now stained with drying tears. He looked like a cracked doll with those tears.  Small tears continued to crawl out of his eyes, and they dropped onto his clothing. He had a lost, faraway look in his eyes, seeming to be in another world. In his own, lost world. He was gone from this world right now. 

    My eyes caught a new sight suddenly. I looked over to his nightstand, and saw a carefully set down piece of paper. It was a letter, and I knew it wasn't Jeremy's handwriting, since it was so small and quickly written, like the person writing it was on a time limit, and was trying to cram everything they had to say into one paper. I looked back over to Jeremy, who was staring at his covers, his eyes devoid of any light. I reached for the paper, and hesitated a moment, before picking it up. I know I shouldn’t be reading Jeremy’s private mail, but it aches me to figure out what was troubling him. Jeremy's head suddenly perked up when he heard the slight sounds of the paper. I ignored him, and took a look at what the paper had to tell.

    "Dear Jeremy, my fiancée,"

......

     That was all I read. That was all I could read. I couldn't get myself to read more, because those four words had already shot a hole right through my heart. Over come with a new found rage, I crumpled up the paper into a tiny ball, and threw it across the room. It hit the wall, and rolled a bit before coming to a complete stop. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jeremy had sat up. I glanced over briefly, and saw he had a terror-struck look on his face, as if the letter I had just tossed was his child. I don't care about that damn letter though. Anger had filled me, like a juice, and I had been charged to brim, from the tip of my toes to the very last hair on the top of my head. My hands clutched my pants, my teeth were grinding against one another. All I could think were the same curse words over and over again, along with the constantly new realization that wasn't getting old.

    Jeremy was getting married! Jeremy had already fallen in love with someone else, and had loved that person so much that he proposed to them, and that stupid person said yes! And now he's taken! I'll never date him! I'll never have the chance to hold his hand in mind, and squeeze it affectionately, wrap my arms around him, hugging him from behind, and just.....kiss him, and find out the amazing feelings that could and would come with it. But the fact that gave me the same pangs of pain through my chest was that Jeremy never informed me of his engagement. He never texted me that he proposed, or let alone, was planning to propose. He didn't even seem to think of me. All that mattered was his engagement, and whoever he was going to marry. I felt like I got shot again, once again realizing he had a wife, or husband to be.

    My fist were clenched at my side. I was ready to create a hole into the wall. No. No. No. We are not going to tear this house apart over a guy, Michael. Keep your composure. I inhaled air, and slowly exhaled my anger. If he was engaged, why would he be upset? I started coming up with theories. There had to be a reason. I need to find out, if maybe this was a relationship Jeremy was too afraid to leave, or if Jeremy even loved this person.

    I looked back over to Jeremy. While I was lost in thought, he had retrieved the letter, and had opened it again, smoothing out all the crumples I put into it. His eyes met mine when he sensed me staring. He had stopped crying, and was taking in slow breaths, though a few tears still lingered on his face. I saw the pain and soreness in them. Those poor blue eyes were certainly worn out from the many tears that came out this night and before that. I knew he saw pain and confusion in my own brown eyes. I tilted my head to the side, in question. He seemed to get what I was asking, and slid himself over so he was next to me.

    He closed his eyes, trying to recount memories he planned to tell the story of.

    "You remember when Christine and I went on our first date right?" He asked, his voice was almost a whisper. My hands clenched to fists for a second before I released them, and nodded. So it was Christine he was engaged to. Of course. I always saw it, to be honest. He really did love her. She really did love him. Who am I kidding? They're perfect for each other. They were meant to be. Two peas in a goddamn- 

My thoughts stopped when Jeremy continued. I quieted the raging thoughts in my head to listen in to what he had to say.

     "That date was where all of it started. Let's see...."


	5. The First Date and On

Chapter 5: Jeremy's POV

   My hair was a mess, so I brushed it out of my face. I looked deep into my thoughts. Thoughts I had been covering up these past few months, because I wanted to forget them so badly. Yet here I am, digging them out of the back of my brain. I began to tell Michael the memories I had as they played in my head like a movie. Michael's eyes were on me, waiting for me to begin.

     "We were in our last year of high-school when I started going out with Christine. I asked her to lunch at a diner, and that was where our first date began. The first of many...."

    * * *

     I felt like people's eyes were on me, so I avoided them, and kept my own gaze at the menu laying in front of me. My hands rested on my legs, and fingers tapped my knees. I looked up briefly to the empty seat across from me. She had not arrived yet. She didn't forget, did she? No, she wouldn't. She last texted me an hour ago, when I was leaving. Other kids were already with their dates here, they're probably staring at me, making fun of the fact that I'm here alone. Jeremy, party of one. Yeah, my date will be here soon. I promise I'm not a guy who can't hitch one girl. I'm not a loos-

     "Jeremy! Hey!" I snapped my head up at that voice. I turned my head in the direction the voice spoke from.

    I saw Christine, one her cheery smiles were set on her face. I eyed her full body as she walked over to me, a skip in her step, and was taken aback by her beauty. My own breath got caught in my throat. 

    A strand of her short black hair was set in between both of her shiny emerald green eyes. The rest of it was curled, and I was tempted to gently pull on them, and watch them bounce back into place. Her dress was white, the long sleeves hung a bit at the end, and at the bottom of her dress was a sewn on red flower, connected with a stem and multiple more flowers. The dress was barely over her knees, and it defined the curves in her figure. She wore black high heeled boots that reached up to her knees, and her hands, with fingernails painted crimson, were clutching onto her silver colored over the shoulder purse. She was beautiful.

    She reached her seat, and slid her bag off, setting it on the back of her chair, before taking a seat. She waved at me, her eyes shining.

    "Sorry I'm late, my mom wouldn't stop fussing over my appearance." She started. I only nodded, as my breath was still stuck in place, and I seemed to forget what English was. If I spoke in that moment, what would come out would be meaningless gibberish. 

    "Jeremy? Are you ok?"  She suddenly asked, and her sing song voice pulled me out the trance I was caught in.

    "O-oh! Y-yeah....I'm...I'm okay, sorry. I was just, distracted....not that you don't matter! It was you I was distract-.....uh....it's just that you look beautiful....I mean, y-you're always beautiful, it's just that you look beautiful-er." I stuttered out. 

   Real smooth, Jeremy. 

    I just couldn't talk, the only thing my brain could focus on was her beauty, her eyes, her melody of her voice, her everything.  She giggled, closing her eyes a moment. She looked back up at me, her face flushing.

    "I'm flattered." She said cutely, and it made me blush, both in embarrassment, and flattery of my own. Christine tapped her fingers on the table, a slight tension started to grow. I forced myself to stop staring, and instead focus on what meal I should order. But I was even unsuccessful in that task. My eyes kept on stealing quick glances at Christine as her eyes read the options on the menu.

    Soon, we both shut our menus, satisfied with our orders. Now we had to talk. My eyes darted around the room. Where was the waiter? I could feel a sweat start to break, so I wiped my brow when Christine looked away, stealing another look at her in the process. 

    "So...." she started, her eyes slowly moving back to meet my own. "How's....life?" 

    "Well, I finally destroyed a super computer that controlled my every move and shocked me if I didn't do what he wanted, so I'd say life is going pretty great now that I'm not a puppet on strings anymore." I replied in a casual tone. I grinned in cockiness to myself when she laughed.

    "Yes, I'd say life is going the same way for me, thank god it's gone. The stupid thing was forcing me to change career paths. Just imagine, me being a mathematician the rest of my life, when I could be Elizabeth Schuyler, or Glinda the Good Witch, or Claire, you know, from Ordinary Days." She stopped herself from saying more, which was a shame, since I could truly listen to her voice go on forever.

    The waiter finally came to take our orders, and we both ordered a hamburger, with fries on the side, and chocolate milk as a drink.

     When he left, a tension began to grow between the two of us once again. My eyes didn't want to leave Christine, but I made sure they did so I didn't look rude, but at the same time I probably looked rude because I never looked at her.

    "Uh..." I decided to make an attempt to start up a conversation, and luckily, it was successful. "Are you going to study theatre in college?" It was as if a light went on in Christine. Her eyes suddenly sparkles, and her body filled with energy.

    "Well of course!" Her voice boomed. Some people swerved their heads in our direction. Christine covered her mouth slightly, and continued talking in a quieter tone, her cheeks bright pink.

    "Ever since seventh grade, my dream was to perform for many, many different crowds, and unfamiliar faces. I wanted them to watch me, and admire me, and hopefully be inspired to do the same as me! I wanna make people smile! If I had the ability to do that, I'd feel.....I'd feel...." She then looked up to me, with eyes wide, bright, and pure. "I'd feel satisfied with myself." She said sweetly.

    God, this girl is an angel descended from heaven. Her dreams are so high, she's so confident that she'll reach them. It's admiring. Her main goal isn't to be the center of attention, well, it is one of her goals, but her main goal is to make people feel happy. 

    "But you already do." I replied. She looked at me curiously. 

    "Every time I see you, I smile. I blush. You're not like the other girls, who are constantly trying to aim for the monarchy of social status. You're you, and you're content with yourself. I admire you for it. I guess, I always thought that I was out of your league, I was never as confident as you. I always cared. I was too afraid to just say hi to you. I always thought you'd see me as the looser that I am, especially after I squipped the entire cast at play rehearsal. I don't know why you would ever give me another chance, but here we are, sitting, and talking. I feel comfortable. I really want to say thank you, for giving me a second shot. I know I'm not like Jake, or anyone else, but-"

     "You're not like Jake, and that's why I want to date you." 

     I looked up, realizing I was starting to ramble, and stare down at the floor. Christine was showing off a smile. It wasn't bubbly, it was genuine, it was caring. 

    "I thought Jake was perfect, because he was popular. I know you said I never cared what other people thought, but deep down, I care somewhat, to be honest. We all do. I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to get eyes on me. I've realized that I never had feelings for Jake, I was only in denial of my feelings for you. This whole time, I've been in love with you, and I was too scared to say it. Me, a theatre kid of all things! I guess we all get to shy to say things at times, no matter how brave we are. So we come up with other ways to reach out to each other, or to get rid of our feelings. It's just how humans like us are. I'm glad we're here now. I finally have someone who shares my love of theatre, who doesn't get weirded out my jumpy self, and just loves me the exact way I am. So, I thank you too, Jeremy. For seeing me as more than just a weird theatre kid." She giggled a bit on the last part, but I could tell she was serious.  
     
    She blushed when I took her hand in mind, and used thumb to rub her temples. She intertwined our fingers, and we stayed like that. Smiling at each other appreciatively. 

     We let go when the waiter came back with two plates full of food. Our conversation went back to theatre as we dug into the delicious food that was given to us. When we finished, I payed for the meal, since dad said it was polite, and we left. 

    "I'm really sorry, Christine, I can't drive yet, I'm still learning. But....maybe I can walk you home?" I suggested. She smiled.

    "Of course. I find it more romantic." She chuckled. I laughed a bit, and we stared down the sidewalk.

    Christine was looking up to the sun, and her black hair was so shiny, it reflected, showing every bit of shimmer she had. I looked over at her, surprised, when I felt her hand slip into my own. She looked at me nervously, silently asking me if it was okay. I squeezed her hand, and smiled. She smiled in return, and we continued to walk.

    Her house wasn't far, and in twenty minutes, we had reached it. I walked her up to the driveway. I still had one thing left for her. I dug into my back pocket, and pulled out a small sunflower, her widened in fascination as I hands to her. She took it, and gleamed up at me.

    "Thank you, for coming out with me. I really enjoyed it." I said happily. She took the flower, and adjusted quit in her hair behind her ear.

    "The flower is beautiful, Jeremy. Thank you for inviting me." She said sweetly.

    I had chosen a sunflower, because I felt like that represented her the most. She was the sun. She always looked to the bright side of things, like how sunflowers turn to the sun. Her personality was sunny, and joyful. It never had stormy weather, the sun was always visible. We stared at each other a bit, before Christine waved.

    "I'm free next week! Let's make plans over text!" She said happily, skipping up her driveway. I waved, and watched as she went inside her house.

    "Little did I know, that was just the beginning of a beautiful relationship." I said. Sadness dripped in my voice. I felt tears begin to swirl, and I closed my eyes, hugging myself, trying to keep myself in one place. Michael had to hear until the end. I sighed, and continued on with my story. 

* * *

    "We went on many, many more dates after that. I remember each date. One time I took her out into a village, with cobblestone streets, and side stores that sold flowers, and other delicious foods. Another time we just stayed in all day because of a harsh snow storm and watched movies, while drinking some hot chocolate I made for the two of us. We went into college together in New York, and studied theatre, and music. Every moment we spent, was absolute joy to me. I never felt so happy, so loved." I paused, and looked over to Michael, taking a deep breath in, to stop myself from crying. His hands clutched the side of the bed, he was glaring down at the ground. I never thought he would be so upset, but I shook it off, and continued.

    "With each date we went on, our love for each other got stronger, and stronger. We graduated college together! We got an apartment on West 17th Street in New York City! We both taught at a drama school together! Every day was perfect. We woke up together, worked together, and at night, I got to hold her in bed. And finally, I was done keeping our status as dating. I was finally ready to pop the question, because....I decided....she was the one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry boyf riends shippers, including me :(


	6. Popping the question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just saw Kinky Boots on Broadway today, and it was soooooo good

Chapter 6: Jeremy’s POV

I continued on with my story, and as I talked, I kept giving brief looks over to Michael, to see how he was taking what I told him. It was a mix, but in general, his whole vibe came off as negative. He especially didn’t like the details I put in about my love for Christine. When I talked about details that didn’t have to do with her, he kept his eyes on mine, taking in each word I told him, and savoring the taste of them. Yet when the story started to transition to Christine, his eyes left my own, and his gaze went to the door, as if he was waiting for the perfect time to run out of my room. Probably when I was so lost in thought about Christine, as I talked about how I loved the way her eyes glowed at the smallest things, how when she was embarrassed, she scrunched her nose up, or if she was nervous she bit one side of her lip while fiddling with whatever was in her hands. I love her. So much. No matter his reactions, I continued with my story.

“Each date was magical. I was on cloud nine with Christine, You just couldn’t bring me down. I got so excited to see her with each date. Every time we met up, I was less and less nervous, and jittery. We found out the things we were into, so we always had a conversation to have with each meet up. It normally ranged to new musical theatre plays we found out about that week, or our thoughts on certain video games. Sometimes, I invited Christine over to try out some video games. She wasn’t too good on much of them, but she did enjoy Animal Crossing, she wouldn’t stop exclaiming about how cute each animals were. We both signed up for extra theatre classes, and after high school ended, we moved to New York together and studied theatre in college, buying an apartment for the two of us to live in. We both worked on Sundays to pay rent until college ended, so Saturdays would be when we spent time together. With each day, we grew more affectionate towards each other, we found out things we never knew about one another, and eventually the feelings we had for each other grew into love, and so much more....”

“You love everything theatre don’t you, Christine? I have never met anyone in this world who’s been so passionate about their dream than you, who wouldn’t give a care in the world if you sang out loud right in front of everyone in Central Park.” I stated, as we walked through the path. I watched people ride by on their bicycles, or have snacks on the benches. Christine giggled.

“Watch me.” She said. She than ran up to a pole and held onto it, as she burst out into a song.

“I think I’ll try, defying gravity!  
Kiss me goodbye, I’m defying gravity!  
And you can’t pull me down!”

I giggled as Christine sang the entire song of Defying Gravity. Her voice was bouncy, and elegant at the same time. If you thought two opposite types couldn’t work together, meet Christine, and her beautiful voice. It’s a voice I’m lucky to listen to each night, since I always manage to catch her softly singing to a different song on our bedside each night as I’m in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. When I leave the bathroom, she’s just finishing her song, brushing her long, flowy black hair. 

By the time she jumped off the pole, a small audience had formed, and they clapped briefly. 

“Thank you!” She said over dramatically, and she hopped over to me. I smiled.

“I will never get tired of your beautiful voice.” I claimed. A blush creeped across her face, and it caused her to smile cheerily to match it. She was certainly the type of person that would blush, even if it were something you said that had the slightest flattery intentions. I did like that I had the power to do it, no matter how simple it was.

We continued to walk, and I looked up at the sun that was in the middle of setting itself to sleep. I looked back over to Christine. She was staring out forwards, to the location I was leading her to. A sunflower I had given to her was on her ear, and matched her emerald green eyes well. I’ve said this many times, and I will continue to say it. Christine is beautiful.

We eventually made it deeper into the park, and we soon were walking through a forest of trees. Christine reached her hand up to any low branches, and ran her fingers through them, feeling the texture of each leaf. Her other hand was in my own, and I held it tightly.

“Oh, that spot’s perfect!” Christine yelled out excitedly, suddenly pointing her finger to a small patch of grass with flowers surrounding it. She ran over to it, dragging me with her. I nearly fell over when she stopped so suddenly at the patch of grass. I put the bag I had slung around my shoulders onto the ground, unzipping the zipper, and pulling out a yellow blanket, the color of a daffodil, and raising it into the air, letting it undo itself, and slowly float onto the ground. Christine kneeled down onto it, as I once again dug into my bag and pulled out a bag filled with dinner I cooked at home for us. I also brought out paper plates, napkins, forks, knives, and spoons. I set them up for Christine and I, and opened our pack of food. 

We each took a half of the warmed food, and put it onto our plates. We then dug in. Chicken, macaroni, and dumplings, with water. It all tasted delicious. We ate in silence, and after twenty minutes of chowing down, we had packed our empty plates and water bottles back into my bag.

We then stared at the sun as it fully set. Fireflies started to peek out of the blades of green grass. They flew around us, adding onto the stars. I looked over, and saw Christine staring at me. She smiled sweetly, and I grinned with her as well. I don’t regret any moment that brought me here. That brought us here. There is no where I’d rather be right now, than next to the beautiful woman who is sitting next to me, staring up to the sky, as the stars light up her eyes. I breathed in shakily. I don’t now how I was going to find the courage to do what I have planned, but I hope it all works out in the end.

I decided to speak up finally, and the words came to my mouth as I thought of them. I didn’t have a speech prepared, I just said what came from my heart, and I hope what came from my heart is going into her own. 

“Christine,” I whispered softly. “You’re so beautiful, and you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever known. You’re peppy, carefree, and always ready to seize a new day.”

“Why thank you, Jeremy.” Christine replied, the blush on her face began to spread down to her neck. I scooted closer to her and wrapped one arm around her waist. She looked up at me. 

“You know, Christine, bringing you out here to compliment You isn’t the only thing I plan to say to you tonight.” I said, smirking a bit. Her eyes looked away for a bit, I could tell she was wondering what I meant.

I took my arm away from her, and patted my back pocket one more time, just to make sure. I felt around a cube shape, confirming me that everything was alright. I got up, bringing Christine up with me. I took her hand in mine, and looked right into her eyes.

“Christine, we’ve been dating for five years. We graduated high school together, bought an apartment together, went through college together, and got a career together. We’ve been through all of this together, and we’ve never left each other’s back. I know I can sometimes mess up, or embarrass you, but I truly want to take our relationship to the next step, and I hope five years of dating has convinced you to give this geek a chance.” I said. Christine’s eyes were beginning to widen. 

I then got down onto one knee, and dug into my back pocket, pulling out a blue box, and opening it to reveal a ring, that was golden, like the sun, and in the middle had a diamond in the color of black, so the ring looked like a sunflower. 

I paused for a moment, knowing what was coming next, and I checked on Michael to se how he was taking all of it in, based on his recent reactions. Not so well. Michael was glaring at the floor. His hands were bunched up into fists. His breathing face seemed to pick up, and I could see he was ready to burst. Apart of me wanted to just stop talking, and let Michael cool down. But I decided to keep pushing forward. Michael deserved to hear this story. We have to get it sorted out, even if he won’t like what’s coming next, and I have a good suspicion why. I closed my eyes, and was transported back into the moment I was describing.

“Jeremy....” Christine breathed as she saw the ring. I smiled, and I even saw tears begin to form in her eyes.

“Christine Canigula, I want to be your husband, but until then, I ask if I can be your fiancée. Will you marry me?” 

Christine didn’t answer for a second, she clutched her chest, her eyes as wide as saucers as she took the moment in. She closed her eyes tightly, and breathed in, before bursting out with an answer of life.

“Yes!” She squealed. “I will marry you, Jeremiah Heere!” She was joyful, jumping up and down, but her tone of voice was confident, and giggly. 

A wide smile was spread across my face like jam being spread across toast. I got up, and took her hand, slipping on the ring.

“Does it fit?” I asked nervously.

“Oh, it does! It’s so beautiful!” She cooed, admiring the ring. 

I placed a hand on her cheek as she looked back up to me,as she put her hands on my shoulders, leaning in, and kissing her. The fireworks set inside of me bursts, as she kissed back with all her might. The stars were twinkling brighter than ever, symbolizing our future. My stomach had flipped, and I felt absolutely complete. Christine’s hands moved from my shoulders to my chest, as she further deepened the kiss. After another minute, we broke apart, breathing heavily.

I then placed my hands on Christine’s waist, and picked her up, as she held onto my shoulders, I spun her around in circles, joyfully. Christine was laughing, and all that I could do was smile brightly. I sat back down, and sat Christine into my lap, burying my face into her long, poofy, black hair. I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes, enjoying the moment of holding my fiancée in my arms, as her head rested on my chest.

After two minutes, I felt Christine take my hands, and hold onto them tightly, she looked up at me, smiling. I could feel a blush on my face, and saw the blush on her own. I was then overcome with more joy. I pressed a big, giant kiss to her forehead.

“Oh god, Christine, I love you so much!” I nearly cried out in happiness.

“I love you too, Jeremy!” Christine said, just as enthusiastically, before my lips went into hers again.

I stopped talking. I looked over to Michael, my eyebrows bent in concern, but not guilt. He hadn’t moved an inch since I started to speak again. I then noticed that his breathing had only gotten heavier and faster, he sounded he had just run a marathon while carrying eighty pounds weights on each arm. He was staring at the ground hardcore, his face was now a shade of bright red. He looked as if he had caught the cold just by my words. Worried, I put my hand onto his shoulder, trying to comfort him. But the second after I set my hand down, he smacked it right off. It wasn’t enough force to hurt me, because I know that even in his angriest moments, Michael wouldn’t dare. But he had still made it loud and clear that he did not want my contact. That was when I saw a tear drip from his chin onto his knee. And then another, and another. He was crying. The tears kept running down his cheeks, making his clothes wet, followed with heavy breaths. I gently set my hand on his face, trying to wipe the line of tears away. But my contact was what ruined it all. Michael put his hands to his face, and let out a muffled, yet loud sob. And then he had jumped off my room, and bolted to the door, opening it was such force, that must have caused a dent in the wall, but Michael seemed to not care less, as he ran out right after, and I heard the door of his own room slam shut.

I felt my own tears well up inside me, and I shook my head in exasperation, frustration, as sadness, and I flopped backwards into my bed. My eyes were watering up, and it became harder to see. Now I definitely knew that my suspicion about him was correct. Michael is in love with me. He has feelings for me, and I had just told him that I was engaged, contentedly breaking his poor heart in the process. Tears of my own began to roll down my face, but now, I could not tell what the reason for them were exactly. I couldn’t tell whether they were for Christine, Michael, or The Untold Truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M SORRY


	7. What do you mean by “annul?”

Chapter 7: Michael’s POV

I ran. Like a stupid coward, hiding by himself in a bathroom because he lost everything, I ran from it all. I ran from Jeremy, because Jeremy was it all. And I’ve lost him again. I ran back into my own room painted in red before my tears could take over my sight, slamming the door behind me so hard, the whole second floor shook. The same thought zapped my brain over and over again, and with each zap, the pain came back even worse.

HE WAS ENGAGED! Who would have thought that three words could turn me into a mess. I’m not too surprised. I’m a weakling. I can’t handle life without a crutch to sustain me, and I’m unable to build one for myself, despite the materials that are all around me. 

My hand was still pressed against the door when I slammed it. I turned around, and leaned back against it, and I felt my head and back make contact with the cold, unwelcoming wooden door. I squeezed my eyes together, taking in a giant breath of air. Come on, Michael, pull yourself together, Jeremy is just a man. There are other fish out there, I just have to find one that suits me. What do I want in a man? 

I need a man who is smart; I need a man who is strong, yet graceful. I need a man who is beautiful. I need a man who can take care of himself, but will let me take care of him when he really needed it, and can also take care of me when I’m in a really bad time. I need a man who likes to play video games, and can understand me on levels no one else can. I need a man who will hold my hand when we walk together. I need a man with soft hair that I could run my fingers through when I kissed him. I need a man who had eyes that can tell a never ending story, and that come to life whenever they set themselves on me. I need a man who loves his family and friends deeply, even if he’s not very loyal. I need a man who has a beautiful voice like no others, and can sing the most beautiful songs. I need a man who loves me, for me. 

....

Goddamnit.

I need Jeremy. 

I wiped away the flowing tears off of my cheeks with the palm of my hand. It really is my fault. Fuck me, why did I wait so long? I could have told him those five years ago, the day after he left for New York, the day I first realized I loved him, when I felt so empty without him. I waited too long, and now I’ll never have him. Even if I did have him, what do I have for him? All I have are video games, an arcade, and myself, Christine has so much more for him in store. 

I got off the door and threw myself onto my bed. I shut my eyes. I just wanted it all to go away. I can’t handle this world right now. I kept my eyes closed, and sleep came, draining away my problems for the moment, as I let the world around me go....

I felt a pair of lips move against my own lovingly, with two hands holding onto my face. My eyes were closed, so I could not tell who it was who was kissing me. I felt the thumbs connected to these hands rub circles on my cheeks. I deepened the kiss, and moved my hands up and down, feeling that it was a man’s waist I was holding onto. I felt the warmth coming from his body against my own, and it only added onto the warmth I felt inside of me.

Soon enough, the pair of lips eventually broke away from my own. I opened my eyes, wanting to discover who had kissed me. All that met my eyes at first was hair, the color of a milky chocolate brown. But slowly, the rest of his body came into perspective.

His skin was pale, but not as pale as a vampires, but at the same time, much lighter than my own. His cheeks was a brilliant shade of pink, that was a blush, and it was quickly spreading. And then I saw his eyes. They were absolutely gorgeous, and they were staring at me lovingly. His eyes were a light shade of blue, it reminded me of the middle of an open ocean, or a clear blue sky. Both shades made up his eyes. Both eyes beautiful. Both blue. These eyes were unforgettable. No matter how old I grow to be, those eyes will always be perfectly engraved into a vision in my head, and I knew exactly who they belonged to, as I looked at the person they matched many, many times. Jeremy.

He smiled at me, and pulled his face back closer to me. He looked deeply into my own brown eyes, before looking away, and resting his head on the top of my chest. I connected my arms around his back. 

“Michael.” I heard his melody of a voice speak. “There’s something I have to tell you.” 

“Yes, Jeremy? What is it?” I asked quietly, my fingers now slowly running across his hair, while my other hand was on his shoulder.

He looked back up at me, his hands holding onto my cheeks, as he looked deep into my own eyes.

“I love you.” He said.

I love you. I love you. I love you! I love you! I love you! He said he loves me! Those three words made my heart go off like fireworks, racing through the air, before exploding with pure joy. I took Jeremy’s face into my own, and crashed my lips against his. I absolutely loved the feeling of my best friend’s lips on my own. The kiss was not soft. It was a kiss full of relief, excitement, and hope. I smiled against the kiss. Jeremy loves me. 

I let go of him, a smile covered my face. I took Jeremy’s hands into my own, intertwining our fingers, and squeezing them tightly. And finally, I told Jeremy the words that I’ve wanted to tell him for so long, thankful that I had the chance to.

“Jeremy, I love-”

“Michael? Michael please wake up.” 

I opened my eyes, and to my dismay, I wasn’t looking down to see Jeremy in my arms. Though I was looking at him, I was on my bed, and he was hovering over me, his blue eyes full of concern. 

I sat up, cursing myself for not locking the door. I groaned quietly, first from having to see the real Jeremy, the one that doesn’t love me, and second from not being able to tell the dream Jeremy that I loved him back.

Jeremy took a seat next to me on my bed, still staring at me worriedly. He reached out to take my hand into his, but I snapped it away, and stood up from my bed, leaning against the wall, my arms crossed. 

“What do you want, Jeremy?!” I asked angrily. I just wanted him to leave me alone with myself as soon as possible. 

Jeremy frowned at me, and sighed. He looked to the ground, staring at it a moment before replying gloomily, “I wanted to finish telling you my story. You never heard the ending, and I know you’ll want to hear it.”

That was when all the anger, and jealousy boiling up inside of me finally overfilled, and came bursting out of the bottle it was stuffed into. 

“The ending?! Are you fucking serious, Jeremy?! I already know the goddamn ending! You’re going to get married to Christine, and hold her hand, and kiss her forever and ever until you grow old and die! You just want to rub it in my face that I’m alone, and I have no friends! Like when I did with the stupid old Squip! So you don’t have to sit here and make me feel even more like a nobody, because I already know the stupid ending!” I yelled out. 

I was breathing heavily, waiting for Jeremy’s comeback. My breathing slowed, when I suddenly saw his eyes fill up with tears. He got off the bed, and was glaring at me, his own blue eyes had lost all the light and shimmer, and was replaced with a stormy, midnight sky. They were narrowed into a dark, icy glare. 

“Michael, that is not the ending to my story! And clearly you don’t want to hear it! You can just keep the ending assumed to yourself, then!” He screamed. He then ran out of my room before I could yell out for him to come back.

His door slammed shut, and the room was soundless. I stood there, silent. I then groaned, and slapped my forehead.

Good going Michael, You made the love of your life cry. I sighed, I knew what I had to do. 

I slowly walked out of my room, my footsteps heavy, as they reach Jeremy’s locked door. I breathed in, and gently knocked on his door a few times, waiting. Nothing.

“Jeremy, I’m sorry for exploding like that. I couldn’t handle the fact that.......I’m so sorry. I get it if you don’t wanna talk. I know I’m an asshole. Just...please, open the door, and we can talk. I want to hear the ending. No matter if I like it, or not. I’m happy you’ll be having a bright future, I guess I’m always just tired of being a failure in other’s eyes. Please.....Jeremiah.....open the door.”

I waited for a minute. Nothing. I shook my head and sighed, beginning to walk back to my own room. I suddenly turned back around when I heard the door of Jeremy’s room unlock, and open.

He stared at me grimly, as I walked back over to him. When I stopped in front of me, he shoved a small cube, blue box in my face. I took it into my hands.

“Open the box, Michael. What do you see?” He asked.

I gently opened the box. Inside revealed a beautiful golden ring, with a black diamond in the middle. I was confused for a moment, before my eyes suddenly widened, and I looked up at Jeremy.

“Jeremy, isn’t this Christine’s engagement ring? Why is it with you?” I asked. Jeremy didn’t answer, instead he beckoned me into his room.

He lead me to his bed, and we both sat down. Jeremy took the box back. He looked back up at me.

“So.....you’re not engaged then?” I asked quietly. He shook his head and sighed.

“Yes......Christine is not my fiancée anymore. We aren’t getting married.” He confirmed.

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! He’s not getting married! I have a chance! I nearly jumped off the bed in happiness. A wide smile was on my face, and I grasped Jeremy’s hand in mine, squeezing it tightly. I looked over to him, wanting to get a good look into his beautiful blue eyes that would hopefully be my future. But my smile faded, when I saw that Jeremy was silently staring at the box with the ring in his hands. His hair hung over his eyes, hiding them, but I heard him sniffling, and I could tell he was crying, as I saw a teardrop drop onto his knee. His thumbs ran up and down the box.

I reach my hand out, and caressed Jeremy’s cheek, but he grabbed my hand and brought it off my cheek, and onto my own lap, before snapping the box shut, and carefully setting it down on the bed. He then quickly got off of the bed, and walked towards the corner of the room. His hand covered his mouth, as he sobbed quietly. 

I got off the bed, and walked over to where Jeremy stood. I put my hands on his shoulders, and rubbed them. 

“Everything will alright, Jeremy.” I whispered. “I don’t understand how Christine could call off an engagement to a wonderful man like you.”

That was went Jeremy snapped his whole body around to face me. His eyes were full of tears, but I could see every single detail of pain in them. The heartbreak, the anger, the hurt, the sadness, hell, even the confusion.

“Christine did not call off the engagement. She did not give her ring back to me. She did nothing.” He breathed angrily, yet sadly. 

Suddenly I was confused. “W-what?” I asked, confusedly.

Jeremy walked over, and sat back on his bed. I sat down with him, looking into his eyes, as he looked into mine.

“Christine did not call off the engagement, Michael. She did not give her ring back to me. Our engagement was annulled.” He stayed into my eyes.

“What do you mean by annulled? Why was it annulled? What happened to Christine, then?” I asked, starting to become afraid of the answer.

Jeremy took a deep breath in, more tears flew down his cheeks. He looked down to the floor, folding his hands together, not minding when they patted onto the floor. He then opened his mouth, and said three words I never thought I was going to hear. Three words that confirmed my fear of what the answer may be.....

 

“Christine is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S......sorry.


	8. The Told Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M SORRY 2.0
> 
> Warning: Gore

Chapter 8: Jeremy’s POV

“Christine is dead.”

The words slipped through my lips, and hit both Michael and I in the face. I looked up to see Michael in disbelief. Honestly, I myself was still disbelief. Those three words have been haunting me for three months now; those three words have brought me so much heartache, and pains in my heart that haven’t gone away. It’s difficult to say those words because I myself didn’t want to believe them. I didn’t want to believe that Christine had passed away, and I was possibly getting over my grief for her faster than I thought, so fast, that I managed to finally get up and call my dad to come back to New Jersey, and make moving arrangements with Michael and his parents. But what also has surprised me is that Christine’s death was never mentioned to Michael, and I’m assuming Michael’s parents wanted me to tell him to his face. But I doubt it. How can I get over it that fast, I loved her, didn’t I? She was going to be my wife; I was going to spend the rest of my life with her and beyond that. I was going to be the father of our children. But that will never happen, I never will see what could have been my children. Because Christine Canigula is gone, like a sunflower that had wilded too soon.

The letter Michael had read was the last letter she wrote to me, not even a text message after that. Though they weren’t the last words she said to me, they were one of three only memories I had left of her. The letter, the proposal box, and the wilded sunflower I was going to give to her, I have kept it with me for so long, refusing to let it go, refusing to let her go. The words Christine has said, still can’t seem to fly away. The way she described our children, I can picture them in my mind, but I’ll never touch them, hold them, kiss them. They’ll only be a vision in my mind. 

But it was not Christine’s words that haunted me the most, it was the words from the letter the hospital sent me a day after......the incident. They were typed out carelessly on a computer, no emotion put into it, just a sorry for your loss. That’s all. It talked about the injuries Christine had gotten, and how she was broken beyond repair, so they let her go. They let her go like another firefly, never to think of it again once it’s gone, because they’re already busy trying to catch the next firefly in sight. 

I looked at Michael once more, before walking over to one of my suitcases, and opening the front compartment, digging around inside of it, before pulling out the hospital’s letter, and a wilded sunflower. I slowly walked back over to Michael, and handed him the letter, while sitting down again, and staring at the dead, brown, once yellow, sunflower. 

“Michael.....” I spoke up, my voice suddenly hoarse.

“Yes?” He answered, his voice so quiet a pin dropping would be louder.

“Do you know....they always speak of it on television.....do you know about the shooting that happened in Time Square three months ago, thirty three were killed?” I asked shakily.

Michael froze, before slowly nodding his head.

More tears dribbled down my cheeks. 

“Christine was one of the thirty three victims, who were shot.” I choked out, my crying was becoming worse by the second. I never talked about it out loud, because of how horrible it sounded. Yet the event it self was even worse than described.

Michael froze up again, staring at me with sadness in his eyes, before slowly turning his head to the paper he held, reading the heartless words so carelessly typed down on it. He can think of the massacre as it happened. But for me, it will forever be a memory I will have to live with the rest of my life.

I remember it. I remember holding Christine’s hand as we walked through the city. I remember feeling the sunflower I was going to give her in the back of my pocket. All the bliss, was enough to create warmth in the bitter cold air of New York in January. Christine and I were talking, about our future. The children in our vision that would one day be true, the house we were going to live in, and raise our children there. The careers we were going to lead until we were old enough to enjoy the benefits of a retirement. We would grow old together. We be together until the end. But it wasn’t so. 

We walked, and talked, and we were so much in another dimension called love, we couldn’t hear the cries, we couldn’t hear the screams. We couldn’t hear the loud banging coming closer and closer, we didn’t see people run in every direction. 

Eventually, I heard it. I heard it. I did. I heard it when I finally caught the sound of a loud gunshot. I felt it. I felt it when Christine clenched my hand, her fingernails buried themselves deep into my skin, making a mark. I saw it. I saw it when my eyes widened, when I saw Christine collapse onto the ground, when I saw a thick red liquid come out of her back. When it spread through the floor. It came closer to me. Closer and closer. 

I couldn’t move, I was tied to place, frozen. My mouth could move, and all it could do was scream out Christine’s name over and over again, but to response. I watched her blood come out of her lifeless body. It was her blood. Her blood was coming to me. It was coming for me. It was to grab me, and show me what I did to her. What happened now because I was so stupid to not protect her. The tears wouldn’t stop coming, but maybe it was good thing, because now it blurred the horrifying vision of the woman I loved, shot in the back, and blood creeping from every direction. My legs forgot how to work, everything couldn’t work anymore. All I could do was stare at the person I loved in terror.

Finally I moved. But it was when someone had picked me up, and ran away with me. I don’t know who picked me up, and I don’t care. My eyes stayed on Christine’s lifeless body until it was out of my sight.

That was the last time I saw her.

After hours, we were allowed home. I went home, I drove home, though I felt like running. I slammed the door open, and searched he place top to bottom, tearing the house apart, wanting to see Christine somewhere in that stupid apartment so badly. But she wasn’t there. I was alone. It was just Jeremy now. All by himself. 

And the next day was confirmed the living nightmare I was already trapped in. The next day, a letter came through the mail. I read the address, and figured out quickly it was a letter from a hospital. A hospital Christine was taken to. A hospital hat could fix her, right? A hospital that would make everything better, and we could live normally again, right? My trembling fingers, opened the letter. God, please, tell me she’s alive. I don’t care about anything anymore, it’s a blur, just tell me that my wife to be will come home again.

“Dear Mr. Heere,

We are deeply sorry to inform you, that Christine Canigula, had lost too much blood, when she arrived at the hospital. The doctors did what they could, but were unfortunately unsuccessful in helping her, and hours after she was brought to the hospital she sadly, passed away.”

There was more to the letter, but I couldn’t read anymore to the letter. I couldn’t read anymore, I’ve seemed to forget how to read words. What were words? Did it even matter what they were? Did anything matter anymore?

I crumpled up the note, tears falling down my cheeks, as soon as I read the last sentence. I punched it. I hit it. I smacked it. But the words were not any less true. Christine Canigula was dead. Gone. And she will never return. I threw that stupid paper away, into a deep dark abyss. I don’t even care anymore. I then broke down onto the floor, and screamed. 

I screamed loudly. I screamed louder than I ever had, loud enough to make my voice leave me for at least a week. What does it matter? I became a mess of sobs on the cold, wooden floor. I stayed on the floor, screaming meaningless nothings, and sobbing in a ball. After what felt to be, and possibly was, hours, I picked my myself back up onto my knees. And then, a new emotion had come over me.

Rage.

I got up, still screaming like a person about to get killed by a psycho path. I punched the bookcase, over and over again, watching carelessly as many books came out of their place and onto the floor, like Christine did when she was shot. I don’t care if those books got damaged, they deserved it. Everything in this house deserves to feel what I feel. Tears ran down my cheeks, my nose, my mouth. They were everywhere.

I ran to the bathroom to have a good look at myself. I was a mess. I was fucking mess. I didn’t want to see myself. Would Christine be proud if she saw how weak I was? The mirror mocked me. It showed the weak parts of me. I’m not weak, I’ll show you.

I punched the mirror. Still mocking me. I punched again. And again. And again. I kept punching, one fist filled punch after another, and I didn’t stop until I saw red liquid drop down into the sink. I looked down, and saw shattered glass from the mirror mixed with blood of my own. Christine’s blood. No. My blood. Blood from the broken glass of the broken mirror. Blood from my broken skin. Blood from my broken self. I closed my eyes, taking in heavy breaths. I then trudged over to my room. I had a splitting headache. I looked into my room, and collapsed onto the floor, crying. I covered my face. The world shouldn’t see how weak I am. The realization keeps hitting me. Christine is dead. Each hit felt worse. Each hit was worse. Each hit brought another sob, and at the same time, took away more air to breathe in.

The floor was where I stayed for so long. A neighbor had mailed back Christine’s engagement ring, but I knew I’d just break down again if I saw it. I hid away from the world. I stayed on the floor all day. My insides were crawling with hunger, and I was crooked and aching from the hard floor. But I refused to sleep in that bed. The bed where Christine slept. The bed that had Christine’s sent of vanilla and coconut. The bed where I heard Christine’s voice sing a soft tune every night.

I looked up to that bed sometimes, and I promise, I’ve heard the remaining echo of her voice. It sang a mourning song, and it rained in my head. I wanted to hear more, but the voice would go away, and each time it came back it was more distant than the last time.

Christine’s funeral was as well a blur to me. I don’t know what anyone said, I don’t know what they’re faces looked like, all I could focus on was the black casket at the front of the room that held Christine inside of it. It held her lifeless body in it. The same body I saw get shot. The same body I saw fall to the ground. The same body I watched bleed out. The same body I was unable to protect.

I had to watch the casket get buried into the dirt. The cold, uncaring, dirt. It’s only purpose was to bury away the people you loved. But before the dirt was allowed to do its job, I dropped a small sunflower on top of the casket, and then watched, in tears, as it was covered with the dull, brown, dirt. And then it was back home, to the floor of my room. To a terrible life.

I then remembered the sunflower in my back pocket. I used what little strength I had in myself to move my hand to my back pocket and pull it out. 

I brought the already wilding sunflower to myself. I had used all the tears I could, and I couldn’t bring more to come, so I only stared at it. I silently stared at the sunflower. I silently stared at Christine. Her black hair. Those emerald eyes that shined when she turned towards the sun. Her smile, a smile that could light up the world. The melody that came wither her laugh. It’s all a memory. It’s all gone. And now I’m left with visions in my head, while I lay lifeless on the floor, barely able to lift a finger...

But I did again. My finger moved. My hand moved. My arm moved. And I used my arm to bring myself back up, to meet the eyes of the morning sun shining in through my window. I could hear Christine again, her voice so faint, it was barely audible.

Look to the sun.

Look to the sun.

Look to the sun.

And now, I did. I crawled over to the nightstand. I took my phone off of it, and rested against a wooden leg. There were so many texts, and missed calls from people. But there was only one person I wanted to talk to. Dad.

In only two months, I had finally packed the place up. I decided to donate the bed. The bookshelf. All of it. I packed up my essentials. And I said goodbye. I said goodbye to the apartment that was once filled with a life. It was empty now. Devoid of any light. And I left it, to go find some more light. 

I passed by the Statue of Liberty, the big lady in green as she held up a torch, I stared out the window of a ferry, that took me back home. Goodbye New York. Goodbye memories. 

I let myself think of each memory. All of the dates we went on. Every moment we shared. The warm summer air, with the lit up fireflies the night I proposed. The box was now safely tucked away. It was one of the many things I still held onto. I couldn’t let her go. I felt it would be betrayal. 

I got back to New Jersey, and back to Asbury Park, the place I was born and raised. The very first face I saw in Asbury was the face of my Father, as he opened the door of his house. I saw his smiling face, and broke down in tears. I haven’t seen him in so long, and here he was, ready to take care of me. He held me in his arms, and in the moment I hugged him tightly, I felt like a small boy again. A small boy who didn’t know what reality was going to do for his future, his biggest concern was what he would have for dinner that night. I don’t say it often, but I love my dad. So much. 

After the moments we hugged, he took me inside, and we had a long talk, as we sat on his couch, drinking hot chocolate. And the entire talk was about only two people. Christine, and my mother.

The reasons how these two women left us were both different stories, as my mother was still alive, but we both shared the same grief for them. And I realized how strong my dad was.

He got up every day. He got out of bed every single day. And it was all for me. He loved me so much, that he didn’t let the divorce control his life. He went out of his way to make sure my childhood was as normal as possible. He really was a role model. I’ve just never seen it until now. And now, he’s inspiring to keep going each day. To pick my life back up, and continue to walk with it, and one day, run again....

I felt empty. Yet full. I’m still here. I’m still surviving by the days. But I want to start living again. When Christine left, by the first month I was only surviving by a thread. I survived with each day as it came and went. Maybe it’s time to live.

I suddenly saw the letter I had given Michael float to the ground. I stared at it, noticing the dry tears on my cheeks, still rolling down. And then I felt a pair of arms wrap around me, and hold me tightly. My eyes widened, and I saw Michael’s tear filled face.

“I’m so sorry, Jeremy.” He whispered. He then quickly pulled me into a tight hug. I felt warm as his red hoodie was brought around me like a blanket. I paused for a moment. I felt Michael hold me tighter with each second, as his hands ran up and down my back. More tears began to flow. And finally, I completely broke. I buried my face into his chest, and started to sob loudly. Michael rested his own head on top of mine, and into my ear, I heard him quietly sing a lullaby. I don’t know what he was singing, since it was all in Filipino, but it was very soothing, as he paused here and there, gently sushing me. More tears ran down my cheeks, and the breaths I took in became softer and softer. I felt the warmth of Michael’s body against mine, and I realized, I haven’t been hugged like this in a very long time. Not even with my Father. I really missed behind held like this very much. I missed the feeling of someone wrapping me up in their arms, and just holding on tight, not pulling away, and not trying to kiss me. They just held me. They gave me the feeling of safety. Michael gave me the feeling. Michael was giving me feelings I have not felt for a long time. Not since, well....the event. He gave me the feeling that there was someone out there who cared for me. 

He gave me the feeling of being safe.

He gave me the feeling of being loved.

I wanted to do more than survive, I need to live. And I want to live. But now, I finally see.

I want to live, and I want to with Michael.

I need Michael.

Because I love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for that chapter...... Oof.
> 
> Last chapter is next chapter oh gosh.


	9. Sunflower Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lullaby: Sa Ugoy Ng Duyan

Chapter 9: Michael’s POV

Everything going on in the world right now can wait. It can pause. Or it felt like it had for me in the moments I held Jeremy. Keeping him in a tight embrace kept the world from spinning, everything had slowed to a stop, and all I could hear was Jeremy’s muffled sobs. I held him tighter, and everything that felt like it mattered suddenly didn’t seem so big anymore. It doesn’t matter if I was really just comforting Jeremy over someone else. Maybe Jeremy will never fall in love with me. Maybe he’ll find someone else and I’ll be back to my same, upset self. But the thoughts of it floated away. All that mattered to me was that I was that I had the man I love in my arms, and I was keeping him close to me. Jeremy’s body heat seeped through his clothing, snuck it’s way through mine, and softly touched me like a warm and strong fire. My hands roamed around his back, warming him, as I glazed my fingertips all over, and the heat I felt though it was enough to get my heart beat pick up, and my cheeks to start to turn that familiar shade of red. The feeling of Jeremy’s soft hair pressed up against the bottom of my chin and cheek had my senses driven crazy. 

Jeremy continued to wail into my hoodie, and I could feel his cold tears leak onto my skin. I closed my eyes, bringing my head down to Jeremy’s ear, and began to sing a lullaby in Filipino, and pausing here and there to gently sush him, if I noticed his cries grow louder. This lullaby was a song I knew for as long as I can remember. But I only remember the song being sung to me once. It was a long time ago, when I was a little boy. It was before Mom, and Mama adopted me. Before I was an orphan. I remember it was the night before I would be sent to an orphanage. I can still feel the tears that rolled down my cheeks, as I was cradled by a woman. My mother. My biological mother. I had asked recently, and learned from Mom that the reason I was sent to an orphanage, was because my original family, who was poor from the beginning, had lost the only job supporting us, and they were unable to take care of me anymore. I was crying into my mother’s shirt. She bent down to my ear, and started to sing to me. 

I sang to Jeremy with the words I remember from my mother. Each word that came out of her, was copied through my own mouth. I continued to cry as my mother sang through the entire song, but as the song came to end, my sobs grew quieter, until they were non existent. I looked up when I heard her stop singing, and saw her looking down at me. Her face is only a fuzz in my memory, but I remember her sent to be one of honey, and flowers. The last memory I have was just hugging her tightly, as she hugged back, and whispered sweet things into my ear in Filipino, telling me everything will be better for me. She told me I’ll one day be with a family who’ll cradle me each night. She told me I’ll be happy again one day. She told me she loves me...

“Michael,” I heard a familiar male voice squeak.

I opened my eyes again, the memory of my mother fading away. I looked down, and was met with Jeremy looking back up at me, his hands were on my chest. His cheeks were stained,but new tears did not appear, and his bawls were no more.

He gave me a weak smile. “Thank you.” He whispered.

His own smile made my own lips curl into a small smile of their own. “It’s the least I could do, Jeremy.” I whispered a reply.

“Yes, and I really do appreciate you going out of your way for me. It was very sweet of you, even after everything you’ve been through tonight, I know it was hard on you.”

And now I was confused once more. Hard on me?

“What do you mean by, it was hard on me?” I asked, curiously.

Jeremy’s eyes went to the wall, and he bit his lip. I could tell he was processing something in his mind. But then he shook his head, and rested it back onto my chest. I used a finger, taking his chin, and pushing it up for him to meet me again. Our eyes met, and I saw all the power, all the strength hidden in his sad sky blue eyes. I saw the endurance they had, the meanings they gave to Jeremy, the reasons they gave, telling him to keep going on, to keep pushing forward. They had the endurance that he had to be able to keep living life, and finding meaning to bring in light each day. Yet at the same time, I saw the weakness, and the pain in his eyes. The part of him that broke his endurance for so long, as he only survived with each passing day. He was alive, but didn’t feel alive at all. There was visions his eyes had, that he had seen the unimaginable, mentally, physically, and emotionally scaring him. The eyes showed me the man who had watched the woman he thought he would spend life and beyond with get killed right in front of him. But I ignored the weak side. If being strong means to pick your life back up after going through a living hell, and to keep moving forward, and not fall down and collapse for the rest of your entire life, Jeremy is the strongest. The strong side of him built his endurance back up, and relit the light inside of him that had been blown out. The strong side of Jeremy will always be there. It always has, and it always will.

I waited for Jeremy to find his voice again. I was correct. The bold side of Jeremy cracked through. He looked me in the eyes, before whispering something that caught me by surprise:

“Michael, I know you’re in love with me.”

My shoulders suddenly rose up to my cheeks, as I froze in place, squeezing myself together tightly as my cheeks turned a darker red than they already were. He knew the whole time?! Fuck.... God damn it, I’ve ruined this friendship, I can erase any thought I ever had of ever having Jeremy as my-

“Am I correct, Michael?” He suddenly asked.

And then my head exploded. Should I lie to him? Surely, he’ll be able to see right through me, because I’m a terrible liar. 

I then realized I had left Jeremy hanging for for much longer than what it took to give an answer. My head was empty for an answer, but my heart suddenly gave it for me.

“Yes. I do love you, Jeremy Heere.” I blurted out. My whole face had turned into a tomato. Jeremy was smiling, but I covered my face in humiliation, and turned around.

“I-I’m Sorry! I know you just went through a ton, and I’m just another problem to worry about, but I promise I wasn’t planning on telling you until you were fully over your grief, it’s just....I guess I never thought I’d fall in love with you.” I finished.

I felt two hands grab my shoulders, and twist me around. The hands then went to my hands, and grabbed one in each, taking them away from my eyes. I opened my closed eyes, and saw Jeremy’s smiling face, his hands still holding mine, as he intertwined our fingers.

“Michael Mell, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I find it sweet....because I love you to.” He finished with a cute smile. He took my hands and squeezed them affectionately. 

My eyes were suddenly wide open. I grabbed Jeremy’s hips, as I was suddenly filled with excitement, and pulled him even closer to me. So close our noses barely brushed against one another. I kept my hands on his hips, and Jeremy brought his hands up to my shoulders. I almost couldn’t believe what Jeremy said, it was too good to be true. But I know what Jeremy said, and he said he loved me. I wanted to just take Jeremy, and spin around the room with him, yelling out at the top of my lungs in pure joy, stating the same fact over and over again: Jeremiah Heere loves me. I felt absolutely amazing, yet apart of me still wanted to confirm if that was the truth or not.

“Is it true?” I asked. 

Jeremy nodded his head. “It is. I love you, Michael Mell. I don’t know how I didn’t see it since I first arrived. When I first saw you open that door, I was taken aback, by how handsome you have grown to be. My stomach flipped multiple times, my heart beat went faster, and when you held my hand, I felt warm, and happy, safe, and now I recognize it to be loved. I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out from the start!” 

I laughed, but the voices in my head were not sharing the same enthusiasm, they were a bit skeptical, and urged me to ask one more question.

“Are sure I’m not just being used a comfort pillow for Christine?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Jeremy shook his head, and moved his hands to the side of my face, holding it. I looked into his sky blue eyes that hovered over a midday ocean, and knew that whatever he said next must be true.

“I am still upset about what happened to Christine, but over time, I’ve learned, and am still learning, to let her go. I can’t hold on to her forever, and I’m ready to move on. I’ve lost what I’ve had for her, and I’m still learning how to love again, but I know the feeling, and the feelings I had with Christine are the feelings I am having with you. I’m more upset about the fact that Christine was a free spirit who died young, than a woman I was in love with who tragically passed away. My feelings are now here for you, and only you. And with each passing second I’m with you, my feelings for you are only getting stronger. I think we’ve both seen enough sadness in our lives, Michael. It’s time for us to be happy, and the way we can accomplish that, is if we’re together.”

I sat there, my head reaching for words to say. Was there any good words to find to respond with. There didn’t seem to be. My brain eventually found something to say, and I set my hands on top of Jeremy’s.

“I want to be happy with you too. You’re like a puzzle piece that completes me, Jeremy. I haven’t really been too happy in a while, and I realize it’s because I didn’t have you.” I replied. 

Jeremy smiled wider. “I know how to make us both happy right now.” He smirked.

I then watched as he leaned forward, and, he pressed his lips against mine. I was surprised at first, but soon, I melted right into his touch. My arms went from Jeremy’s hands to around his waist, as his own arms went around my neck, and he was pressed against me. I deepened our kiss, our lips pressing harder against one another. My head was spinning, as I felt a surge of electricity zap through me. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, too long, and it had finally arrived! 

We eventually broke apart for air, but I rested our foreheads together. We stayed like that, listening to each other’s deep breathing, and Jeremy was the first to recover.

“Did it make you happy?” He asked, a smirk creeping onto his face.

I laughed, and pulled him close.

“It did, Jeremy. It really did.” I answered.

Jeremy smiled, before unwrapping himself from my arms. I sighed gently, as he got off the bed, and walked over to the night stand, picking up the dead sunflower.

I got up, and put my hands on his shoulders. He looked at the sunflower, closed his eyes, and breathed in. He opened his eyes, and exhaled.

He turned to me, smiling. 

“Come with me.” He whispered, taking my hand. He brought me out of my room, and down the stairs. I lead him to the door, and he opened it, walking outside.

I followed him curiously as he walked outside, and behind the house, into my backyard. He glanced at me, before walking to the middle of the back yard, and bending down. I watched as he suddenly began digging into the dirt.

I didn’t question it, I just watched, though there were questions raising in my head like balloons, it’s only a matter of time before one of them popped. 

Once he was satisfied with the hole he had created, very gently, he placed the wilded flower inside of it. He paused a moment, taking his last view of the flower. His last memory of Christine. He then took the dirt he dug up, and covered it over the flower, patting it once it was fully put back together.

He stood up and walked over to me when he was finished. I hugged him gently, and he rested his head on my shoulder.

“Why did you bury the flower?” I asked. The balloon had finally popped.

He got out of the hug, and looked up at me, smiling.

“The flower will make a beautiful sunflower garden, don’t you think?” He asked.

 

And years later, I can confirm that my husband was right. The back of my house is now a thriving garden, filled with many different flowers, but in the middle, is a patch of bright yellow sunflowers, and every time I look out the window, I can always guarantee that they are turned towards the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this fan fiction. I really appreciate the fact that people take the time out of their day to read, vote, and comment such sweet things on here. I know my writing isn’t too good, there are some significant grammatical and spelling errors, the story was a bit predictable, and my Language Arts teacher tells me that I’m quite unorganized when it comes to writing, so I’m trying to get better - any tips will do me great.
> 
> Thank you once again, for reading. Your comments are what Inspire me to keep going, to keep writing, because I know there are people out there waiting for more. Thank you all so much. I’ll be writing more fan fiction, but currently I’m running a bit short on creative juice, so it may take me a while to start up another. Once again, whether you’re reading this on Wattpad, or Archive Of Our Own, Thank You. So Much.
> 
> \- SefAsimar  
> -Musical Theatre Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, ok ok ok ok ok ok ok.
> 
> I know, in my last fan fic I said that Jeremy had bright brown eyes, but after reading other fanfiction and seeing Fanart, I’ve come to a conclusion that Jeremy actually has blue eyes, so I’m changing it.
> 
> I also decided to change Momae in Mama, and Mombee in Mom.
> 
> Good? Ok. Thanks for reading the first chapter, I have more in stock, so stay tuned.


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